


Push, Pull

by arbitraryallegory



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Future Fic, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arbitraryallegory/pseuds/arbitraryallegory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gokudera is going off the rails, negotiations with a rival famiglia are heating up, and Tsuna finds himself struggling to navigate the grey area between the professional and the personal. Where does the Decimo end and Tsuna begin, and vice versa?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Push

"Boss?"

Tsuna jolted from his thoughts, his focus returning to the matter at hand. Yamamoto was giving him a concerned look, but hadn’t moved from his careless sprawl over one of the visitor chairs. He must not have been out of it too long then, Tsuna thought sheepishly.

"Yes, sorry. Go on, please."

Yamamoto still looked concerned, but of all Tsuna's friends, he was the least likely to push. He continued with the mission report he'd been giving for the past half-hour. What it all seemed to boil down to was a lot of political posturing, but that the Torino famiglia had tentatively accepted the terms of alliance Tsuna had offered them. Of course, Tsuna would have to meet with their boss before any of it became official, but this was a huge step in the right direction. The Torinos had been a thorn in his side for months, and he was anxious to remove it, preferably as painlessly as possible.

Relieved that the matter seemed to be all but settled, Tsuna turned his attention back to the paperwork strewn in haphazard piles over his desk, manfully suppressing a groan. 

Yamamoto cleared his throat, and Tsuna blinked up at him. Hazarding a guess, he said, "Thank you, Yamamoto. Your help has been invaluable. I couldn't have asked for a better outcome."

Yamamoto nodded. Normally, he'd have already been off to make his post-mission rounds with a grin and mock salute, but he seemed to be hesitating.

"Is there something else?" Tsuna wasn't particularly looking forward to the paperwork, but the sooner he completed it, the sooner he could return to the Other Matter that had been causing him no small amount of stress for the past few weeks. And hopefully find a solution.

"Yeah..." Yamamoto began, and straightened up in the chair, rubbing the back of his neck in an obvious sign of discomfort. If that wasn't enough to get Tsuna's attention, then the serious look on his normally placid face and the fact that he wouldn't meet Tsuna's eyes certainly was.

"Yamamoto?" Now Tsuna was the one concerned.

"Ah. Have you noticed anything, I don't know, _weird_ about Gokudera lately?"

Tsuna jerked, alarmed because if even _Yamamoto_ had noticed that something was up then the situation was much more dire than he'd originally thought. "I have," he admitted, choosing his words carefully. "And I'm... dealing with it." It wasn't quite a lie; not exactly the truth. He was still trying to figure out the cause of Gokudera’s strange behavior, and until he did he had no idea how he was supposed to "deal with it."

Yamamoto looked relieved. But Tsuna was curious. "What made you notice?"

"Oh, I don’t know. His temper’s worse, but that’s just Gokudera,” he said with a quick smile. “Could be his research isn’t going well, or it could be a hangnail, you know? He’s always been pretty volatile. It’s what’s under the temper that’s got me worried. He feels different than he usually does when he's stressed. Restless or maybe even desperate and…”

"And?" Tsuna prompted impatiently when Yamamoto lapsed into thoughtful silence. He longed for any insight that might clue him in on what was bothering Gokudera. With anyone else he'd simply _ask_ but he intuitively knew that was not the approach to take in this particular case. If Gokudera knew he was causing Tsuna anxiety he'd be dismayed. Which meant Tsuna had to wait until Gokudera came to him or investigate on his own. 

Yamamoto shrugged. "I don't know. It feels like he needs something."

Tsuna sat forward, intrigued. In these matters, Yamamoto was rarely wrong even if he didn’t always know why he was right. "Needs something?"

"Yeah. Like I said, it's weird. But I bet if anyone could get him to say what's bothering him, it'd be you."

"Hmm.” Tsuna wasn’t so sure about that. “Thank you, Yamamoto. You’ve given me a lot to think about." This time the dismissal was clear, and Yamamoto stood up, obviously hearing it.

"Yeah. I just. It's weird to talk to you about him. It feels like I'm tattling. But if something doesn't give, I'm worried he might do something reckless. It's already interfering with his work. His minions in ReDev are terrified lately, rather than just nervous. And if someone with Gokudera's projects messes up because he's distracted, he could blow up a building or two, you know?" Yamamoto didn't have to add, _and kill himself in the process_ for Tsuna to hear it. The thought made him ill.

The door closed quietly behind Yamamoto, but he'd left another piece the to puzzle that had been stumping Tsuna for the past month or so.

He'd thought, perhaps naively, that once they began this relationship and Tsuna made it clear to Gokudera how necessary he was to him--as a right-hand man, as a friend, and as a lover--that it would calm down some of his more extreme behavior. And it had...for a while.

They were happy together, or at least Tsuna thought they were. Gokudera was passionate and loving with Tsuna when they were alone together, and his joy was so palpable that Tsuna couldn’t doubt he was happy with the way their relationship had evolved.

Yet he wasn’t settled. Far from it. His behavior in public was deteriorating rapidly, moods swinging wildly. He could be perfectly fine one moment, and apoplectic with frustration the next. By all accounts he was acting even _worse_ than he had in the past.

It had gotten bad enough that Tsuna was beginning to receive complaints from other family members; complaints which he would soon be unable to either ignore or smooth over. Gokudera had never been on the best terms with...well, with anyone who wasn't Tsuna, really, but as time passed, he'd matured beyond allowing himself to be provoked by every little thing. At least until recently, anyway. Now Lambo came to Tsuna almost daily, cursing and wailing and usually sporting some sort of injury thanks to Gokudera. He’d sent Haru crying the other day due to some food related mishap. And last week he'd gotten into a knock-down drag-out brawl with Onii-san. They hadn’t spoken to each other since and Tsuna still hadn’t been able to drag what had happened from either of them

This had to stop, but Tsuna wasn't any closer to figuring out how he was supposed to do that than he had been when he first noticed Gokudera's distress. He couldn't confront Gokudera until he knew something solid, because despite the progress they'd made in their relationship, Gokudera was still loathe to show weakness in front of 'Juudaime'. Besides that, Tsuna wasn't entirely convinced Gokudera himself knew what was wrong.

Tsuna's hyper-intuition nagged at him. He had the pieces, he knew, or most of them anyway, but try as he might (and he had tried) he couldn’t make them fit together so that they made sense. Gokudera wasn't unhappy with _him_ \--he'd sure he'd be able to pick up on something so obvious whether or not Gokudera wanted him to. Something Yamamoto had said struck a chord: that Gokudera felt "desperate." Now that he had the word, he had to admit it felt right. But what on earth could be causing such desperation?

It was up to Tsuna to figure it out for both of them.

***

Two weeks later, Tsuna wasn't any closer to untangling the mess with Gokudera, nor could he afford to divert much attention to it while he prepared for the impending meeting with the Torino boss, taking place that afternoon. Gokudera was as erratic as ever, but he was still Tsuna's right-hand man and Tsuna had to trust that he could put his personal struggles aside to do his job.

The meeting was taking place at a restaurant in Rome--neutral territory--and rented for their exclusive use, just to ensure no bystanders were harmed in the worst case scenario.

Things went smoothly, at first. Each of the bosses brought two attendants, as agreed. Two thuggish giants in suits for Torino; Gokudera and Chrome for Tsuna). They had a civil, if not entirely pleasant, late lunch, where they made slightly wooden small talk about the weather, the food, and a number of things that mattered not at all.

When he had judged enough time had passed, Tsuna decided to move things along.

He set his tea aside and folded his hands together on the table, keenly aware of the way the tension sharpened abruptly at this gesture. "I trust you've had enough time to consider the terms of alliance, Signor Torino?” Tsuna inquired in a deceptively casual voice. He used Italian, of course, and he knew Torino wouldn't be able to detect a single flaw in his accent. He'd worked very hard to make it so.

The other boss sat back, arrogant and gratingly smug, a small smirk playing about his mouth. He was a stout, borderline fat man with oily black hair that had a bit of grey at the temples. He wore several rings on his pudgy fingers and his drawl, when he finally spoke, was just slow enough to be patronizing. "Indeed. I must say, I was rather...surprised."

"How so?" Tsuna asked, injecting a trace of false concern into his tone. Torino would know it was false, and would know Tsuna meant it to be. The deal was better than Torino and his organization deserved, certainly better than they had a right to ask for. Tsuna could crush them within days, and in a moment of rage after witnessing the aftermath of the Piazza San Carlo Massacre, had even considered it. Tsuna let him see in his eyes what they both knew: the Torino were nothing but a minor annoyance to the might and vastness of Vongola. This meeting was a formality; a way to _allow_ Torino to pretend this was a true alliance rather than a total surrender. Tsuna didn't have to do so; he _deigned_ to.

It wiped that cocky smile from Torino's mouth, at least. Tsuna contented himself with the thought that after this distasteful farce was completed, whatever power Torino had would be null within months, a year at most. His plans were set, ready to shift into motion the moment he had Torino’s signature on paper and organization under thumb.

Covering his ruffled feathers, Torino cleared his throat and continued. "The terms are remarkably lenient, and I don't see a problem complying with any of them...except this one."

Tsuna stiffened, as did his guardians. It was true, the terms of "alliance" the Vongola had outlined were incredibly lenient, considering, and Tsuna was uncertain what this audacity was supposed to accomplish. Especially since Torino didn't have the leverage required to make demands.

Tsuna didn't even bother to read the note Torino’s henchman passed to Chrome, who passed it to him. He simply laid it face down and said flatly, "I'm sorry, was there something in the document I sent you that made you believe these terms were negotiable? They're not. None of these requirements will harm your famiglia's bottom line."

Torino raised an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe Signor Vongola. What was it that it said? Ah, yes: ‘No member of the Torino organization may commit violence against those who are not voluntary members of said organization except in self-defense.’ Is that not a term of the alliance?”

“It is,” Tsuna agreed. 

“But my Family has many debts we have procured. If not for the threat of physical violence and the ability to carry through on those threats, I fear the debtors will feel free to renege on our agreements. No, this is unacceptable and I demand you remove it from the treaty.”

Tsuna sat back and weighed his options. The stipulation was necessary--had been the first one Tsuna had conceived when he began pursuing this route in the wake of the Massacre. It would take time, perhaps the entire afternoon, but he could finesse Torino. Tsuna had the diplomatic skills to lead him to the unavoidable conclusion with such a delicate touch that he wouldn’t even realize he’d agreed until his binding signature (in accordance with Mafia law, enforced by the Vendice) was staring up at him from the paper and he was shaking Tsuna’s hand, smiling as he walked away.

Where he would probably arrange a hit on Tsuna as soon as he entered his car, incorrectly believing that while Tsuna had power, he was unwilling to use it and that that made him weak. And if that happened Tsuna’s plans--the bloodless reform of the Torino syndicate, and ultimately absorption of it by the Vongola--would be ashes on the wind. He couldn’t overlook an attempt on his life, no matter how doomed-to-fail it was, and his guardians certainly wouldn’t.

“No,” Tsuna said calmly. “You will sign the document as is, and the alliance will proceed as I have outlined. No exceptions.”

“You _greedy little upstart_ ,” Torino yelled, abruptly furious. He came out of his seat and slammed his hands on the table, the noise echoing through the empty restaurant. “What do you take me for you--”

And that's when everything went to hell.

Tsuna and Chrome didn't even flinch. Tsuna had expected such a display, and his boredom was not affected, but true. This man was nothing. Not even strong enough to produce a dying will flame, his power was based entirely on charisma and brute force, by preying on those weaker than himself. He couldn't best Tsuna in a fight, he couldn't best _Haru_ in a fair fight, probably. So no, Tsuna wasn't bothered by a bit of noise and futile attempts at intimidation.

But Gokudera had the other man in a stranglehold before Tsuna even knew what had happened, which meant his two thugs had their guns out and pointed at Gokudera, and Chrome was tensed, hand on her staff, and _goddamnit_!

"Gokudera-kun!" Tsuna said sharply, in Japanese, and Gokudera let go immediately, stumbling back, his wide eyes staring at Tsuna and seeming to forget the armed thugs. "Oh for--" Tsuna lifted a hand to his temple, vainly attempting to sooth away the incipient headache. "Kindly have your men put their guns away. He's not going to do anything, you have _my_ word."

"He _attacked_ me!" Torino wheezed, clutching his throat. "I demand recompense!"

"Gokudera will be reprimanded in due course, and it certainly won't be by you," Tsuna snapped, temper fraying even further, holding on to his urge to scream at them all by a thread. This was not how this afternoon was supposed to go.

“It is my right--”

“He is _mine_ and _you will not touch him_!” Tsuna snarled furiously. He sucked in a breath, captured his anger and tucked it away. He’d have time to indulge later. "Do you accept the terms or not?" he was able to say with a facsimile of calm.

"I don't--" Torino began to bluster, and Tsuna cut him off immediately.

"Since you seem to misunderstand the position you're in, I'll give you a few more days to think it over. If you decide to accept the terms, contact Yamamoto. If you don't, we're in a position to stop your family's movements by force." Tsuna hesitated, and let real regret flavoring his voice. Torino didn’t have to know that the regret was not for him, but for the plan, which seemed to be all but up in smoke. "I'm sorry it came to this. I wanted us to begin our Families' relationship on better terms."

Tsuna turned and came up against the subdued gaze of his right-hand. "Juudaime--"

"Don't," Tsuna said, and made sure every bit of weariness and disappointment he felt was apparent in his voice and on his face. Gokudera recoiled as if slapped, and looked at the ground. No one said a word during the ride back to the hotel, and Chrome seemed glad to escape the uncomfortable silence when they reached their floor. Quietly, she bade them good night and shut her door.

Tsuna thought about spending the evening in tense silence with Gokudera, not knowing what to say, how to say it, how to _help_ him, and promptly changed his mind about wanting to go to his room. He turned on his heel and made for the elevators again. 

“Juudaime!”

“I’m angry with you, Gokudera-kun,” he said, stopping but not looking over his shoulder.

“I-I know. I was out of line back there. I just--”

In no mood for excuses, Tsuna cut him off. “You misunderstand. I’m disappointed in you for not thinking and embarrassing us like that. I'm confused about why you felt the need to attack someone you must have known was not a danger to any of us. I'm bitter that you have directly, by your own actions, endangered a project that is very important to me. But I'm not angry. I am _angry_ because no matter what I do or how competent I become, you still don’t trust me. I’m angry that the person I rely on the most in this whole world still can’t bring himself to rely on me in return. I'm angry because we've come so far and you still refuse to tell me when you're hurting.”

Tsuna was suddenly exhausted. “Please go to the room. I want some time to think. I’ll ask Yamamoto or Reborn to accompany me, so you don’t have to worry.”

“I’m sorry!” There was an unmistakable note of pleading in that voice. _Please forgive me_! And Tsuna had to harden his heart against giving in on the spot. He _hated_ this. 

He didn’t turn around until he was in the elevator, and he watched the doors close on Gokudera’s lost expression. 

***

When he knocked, Hibari answered the door and before Tsuna could finish stammering over his apology, (“I must have gotten your and Yamamoto’s rooms mixed up, sorry!”) Hibari was giving the impression that he would very much like to roll his eyes, even if he’d never lower himself to such a plebeian display of irritation.

“No,” he interrupted flatly, “this is the Rain Guardian’s room. He’s not in.”

Tsuna had to bite down on the urge to ask why Hibari was there, then: he still had the alarming habit of threatening to bite Tsuna to death, and Tsuna didn’t care to test the veracity of such threats.

“I...see?” 

“I wonder,” Hibari muttered under his breath.

“Pardon?” He would never tell Hibari this, but sometimes Tsuna thought he and Mukuro were a lot alike, with their penchant for the hideously cryptic.

Hibari stared (glared? It was hard to tell) at him for an uncomfortable moment. Then he shut the door in Tsuna's face.

“You aren’t very observant for someone who relies so heavily on his intuition. No-Good Tsuna.”

The dry voice came from behind him, and Tsuna turned to find Reborn leaning against the door jamb to the room across the hall.

Weirdly, it was the sight of his former teacher and current advisor, looking so very tall and whole and as he always should have been that caused a lump to form in Tsuna’s throat. Even after so many years, all he’d been through, sometimes he still felt like a stupid thirteen year old kid who didn’t know a damn thing. 

“Reborn, I,” Tsuna trailed off. Reborn would probably tease him, maybe even kick him, for being so clueless, but after that he’d _help_ him. He steeled himself. “I don’t know what to do about Gokudera-kun.”

Reborn sighed. “Let me grab my hat.”

***

Reborn was as frustratingly unforthcoming as always, but he did let Tsuna vent with minimal commentary as they walked around the city. And he didn’t let Tsuna get stinking drunk, which was what he would have done if left to his own devices.

He walked Tsuna back to his room, and while he didn’t have anything actually helpful to say, he did drop this pearl of wisdom: “Stop thinking so much. Trust your gut, especially with Gokudera. For someone so intelligent, he’s remarkably transparent. Everything you need to know is right there if you’d bother to look.”

When he walked away, Tsuna banged his head softly on the wall next to his door. “I am _surrounded_ by cryptic bastards,” he muttered bitterly as he slid the keycard into the slot and opened the door.

The room was dark. Silent. Tsuna didn’t want to wake Gokudera if he was sleeping, so he tiptoed lightly across the floor, relying on the short glimpse he’d gotten from the corridor light to make it to the bathroom. December in Rome wasn’t unbearably cold, but he was chilly and a hot shower would warm him up properly.

He thought about Reborn’s words. He didn’t think they were wrong, but he still didn’t know what he should be looking for. Transparent he may be, but Gokudera was also ridiculously complicated and heart-breakingly defensive. He knew that Gokudera was different with him, had always been different with him. He was softer, and if not calmer then at least more focused. More focused on Tsuna, on giving Tsuna whatever he needed. And Tsuna would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy having all that focused, intense devotion centered squarely on him, even if he didn’t understand where it came from. When he’d been a kid it had been scary, too extreme for his sensibilities; he hadn’t known what to do with so much attention, hadn’t wanted it. 

He accepted it now, welcomed it even. Gokudera was his friend, his confidante, his lover. He was smart, talented, passionate, beautiful, and most of the time Tsuna couldn’t believe someone so amazing was in love with _him_. He still didn’t understand it. And maybe that was the crux of the matter.

The sex was...well, Tsuna didn’t have any complaints in that department. Gokudera was a tender lover when he topped, amazingly thorough, and it made Tsuna’s toes curl against the floor of the bathtub just thinking about it. And when it was Tsuna’s turn, he tried to be just as kind, worshipping Gokudera’s body completely before finally pushing inside that tight, hot...

Tsuna cut those thoughts off at the pass. He couldn’t truly examine Gokudera’s problem--no, _their_ problem--if he was too busy lusting after him, though he couldn’t resist an apologetic squeeze of his cock. _Sorry, not right now._

Tsuna shut off the water and toweled his hair and body to damp rather than dripping, and donned his robe.

To his surprise, when he walked out of the bathroom, a soft glow from the bedside lamp greeted him, as did Gokudera sitting seiza on the king-size bed and looking very nervous, wringing his hands and probably jonesing for a cigarette. 

“I’m sorry, Juudaime.” he began, hushed and unable or unwilling to meet Tsuna’s eyes. Then very slowly and very deliberately he leaned forward and touched his head to the mattress in a calmer echo of the way he used to prostrate himself at Tsuna’s feet when he thought he was being reprimanded. "I sincerely apologize for my reckless behavior and am prepared to accept whatever punishment you deem fit." 

Tsuna barely heard over the sensation of all the air leaving his lungs and his throat going dry. He couldn't take his eyes from Gokudera, prone and giving himself up to Tsuna's mercy. To his horror and shame he felt his cock, which had just calmed down, give an interested twitch. What kind of bastard was he to get turned on at a time like this?

“Ah, Gokudera-kun, don’t do that, please! I-I know you’re...can you please sit up? We need to talk and I'd like it to be as equals.”

Tsuna's cheeks were burning, and his voice shook.

Gokudera sat up again, looking at Tsuna with eyes that resembled liquid mercury, something that wasn’t quite terror, but wasn’t quite _not_ boiling up.

“I’m not breaking up with you!” Tsuna blurted, and sighed when some of the turmoil seemed to abate. “Gokudera-kun, I know that lately you’ve been going through something. I don’t think that you’re unhappy with me--”

“Of course I’m not--!”

Tsuna raised his hand, cutting him off. “Please keep your silence until I’ve finished, Gokudera-kun.” Gokudera subsided, but practically vibrated with the need to speak.

“As I said, I don’t think it’s unhappiness, but...but there's something not right, that _should_ be right. You’re...you want something, maybe even need something, and you’re not getting it. It’s making you unstable and that instability is now leaking into the rest of your life too, in the way you interact with others. _Yamamoto_ even noticed you were acting strangely. The fuse on your temper is so short as to be nonexistent, your actions are harsher, your words crueler, and I just want to know...why are you behaving this way suddenly?”

“I don’t _know_!” Gokudera said helplessly, hands wringing again. 

Tsuna narrowed his eyes. “Is it that you don't know or that you didn't realize how bad things had become?" Gokudera hesitated. "The first one," he admitted, and bit his lip. Tsuna could sense the truth of his words and the bewilderment behind them. So he knew something was wrong but didn't know what. Tsuna had figured as much. "I see," he said, weary beyond belief. Then he smiled, he hoped, encouragingly. "We’ll have to figure it out together then.”

Gokudera nodded, once again not meeting Tsuna’s eyes. 

Now for the hard part. He really did hate this, no matter how necessary it was. “On the matter of your punishment. What you did today was completely unacceptable. At this time you are clearly unable to put personal issues aside to attend to business. I don’t blame you, but it _is_ a problem. And...I don’t know any way to prove to you that I’m capable of handling myself except, well, to prove it. To those ends, I’ve decided that you will not be coming with me to my next meeting with Torino.” Tsuna talked over Gokudera’s protests. He wasn’t done. “In addition, you are returning to Japan tomorrow, while I stay here and try to control the damage. I’ve asked Chrome to accompany you while Yamamoto takes her place in my guard and Reborn takes yours.”

“You--I _can’t_!” Gokudera sputtered, coming off of the bed and holding out a placating hand to Tsuna. 

“Please sit down, Gokudera-kun,” Tsuna said, unmoved. The punishment was not as severe as the transgression called for, but Gokudera’s actions were not under his control. At the same time, this was the only thing he knew stood a reasonable chance of penetrating whatever turmoil was going on in his Storm Guardian’s head and forcing him to think rationally. In that way, it really was the perfect punishment.

“Juudaime, I have to stay! I’m your--”

“Right now, in this state, you are more of a liability than an asset to me, and to the Family." He carefully moderated his tone into something more matter of fact, hoping to take some of the sting out of his words. They'd sting enough on their own, he didn't need to be needlessly cruel. "Until we figure out what’s going on, I can’t have you near sensitive negotiations. Now, Gokudera-kun, I won’t say it a third time: _Sit down_ ,” he said in the most authoritative voice he possessed, not Gokudera’s lover or friend just at the moment, but every inch the Vongola boss who Gokudera _would_ obey.

To his surprise, Gokudera’s knees buckled, sending him to the floor in a flash of panicked green eyes and tumbling silver hair.

Tsuna’s hyper-intuition engaged automatically as he knelt to ascertain whether Gokudera was injured. He moved his hands gingerly feeling for wounds, but he couldn’t sense any pain-distress. Just regular distress and something else he couldn’t identify right away because he wasn’t looking for it under the circumstances.

Gokudera had landed on his hands and knees. His breathing was harsh, too loud to Tsuna’s sensitive hearing. His arms wobbled dangerously as if they would give out as abruptly as his legs had--indeed his whole body shook with faint tremors. His heart beat thundered in Tsuna’s head, and his body was too hot, even from several inches away. And he was...he was...

 _Oh_! 

He was _aroused_. And suddenly all the pieces of the Gokudera-shaped puzzle clicked together, exploding into vivid completion with the force of a thunderclap. Tsuna's head reeled at the impossible, undeniable truth of it.

Gokudera didn’t want or need Tsuna to be more gentle. What he wanted, craved even...was the exact opposite.

Well, Tsuna had wanted to know, hadn’t he? Now that he did, he wasn’t at all sure how to proceed. Or even, he admitted to himself, if he could proceed.


	2. Pull

Gokudera must have been incredibly shaken, because he didn’t even stop to apologize when he pushed Tsuna away and fled the suite.

Not that he could blame him, Tsuna thought ruefully. He was pretty shaken himself. That had been...illuminating. He pushed up from his ungainly sprawl just as he heard the opening bars of the Nanimori alma matter, Hibird version. 

For someone who liked to pretend he didn’t have a sense of humor, Hibari certainly loved his practical jokes. Tsuna hadn’t been able to change his ringtone in _years_. Not even Gokudera could undo whatever technological magic Hibari kept wreaking on Tsuna’s mobile phones.

When he answered, it was his chauffeur. He could hear Gokudera shouting invectives in the background, but Antonio sounded as unflappable as ever. “Sir, sorry to bother you. Gokudera-san is requesting transport, but I thought I’d best check in with you first to make sure you won’t be needing me any time soon.” In a lower tone, he elaborated, “He seems quite agitated.”

Tsuna bit his lip. What he wanted to do--thought he _should_ do--was march down to the car and demand Gokudera come back and talk to him like the adults they were supposed to be. Running away wouldn’t solve anything.

But that wasn’t really fair, was it? Not when Tsuna had just basically ordered Gokudera away from him. And, he admitted, he had no idea what he was supposed to say anyway. How _did_ one go about starting this conversation? “You get off on me ordering you around and you’ve been going nuts because...?”

Well, he still didn’t quite have the answer to that one. The flash of insight had given him a broad idea of the problem, but the specifics were still a mystery. They’d have to talk about it, openly and honestly.

“Take him wherever he wants to go,” Tsuna said shortly, and hung up. Then he fell back on the bed to brood.

They were both tense and emotional after the day they’d had. They needed some space to cool off and think everything over before they approached such a sensitive topic. And as logical as that sounded, Tsuna knew deep down that he was lying to himself. He hadn’t let Gokudera go because it was the right thing to do; he’d done it because he was a coward.

 _No-Good Tsuna, indeed._ It was somehow fitting that the voice of his conscience had always sounded like Reborn.

***

“I don’t know Tsuna, he’s still just moping around. He hasn’t called me any names at all. It’s weird.” Tsuna could practically hear Lambo’s shudder over the line, and had to smile. He didn’t have to understand it to know that hurling insults was their way of being affectionate. It seemed to work for them, most of the time. And other than Tsuna and maybe Yamamoto, Lambo was the closest to Gokudera.

He was meeting with Torino again that afternoon, and he felt Gokudera’s absence keenly. As volatile as he’d been lately, he was still Tsuna’s best friend and trusted right-hand. Tsuna missed him, and the fact that it had been entirely necessary to exile Gokudera from this mission did not negate the sentiment one bit.

There was also the matter of Gokudera not returning his phone calls. That was new and entirely unpleasant. Tsuna could not remember a single time such a thing had happened when Gokudera was not incapacitated in some way. 

Obviously that was not the case now, as Lambo had assured him that, _“Octopus-head is fine, just sulking around like a thirteen year old,”_ countless times in the past three days. Which meant that as troubling as Tsuna found it, he had to accept that Gokudera didn’t want to talk to him.

Well, for a given value of “accept” which involved more “ordering Lambo to spy” than actual acceptance.

He was at least certain that he could be relieved that Gokudera hadn’t taken it into his head to run off to parts unknown. Not that Tsuna wouldn’t be able to find him, but the fact that Gokudera was in the home they shared and staying put meant something positive. At least, he thought it did.

Tsuna still _really_ missed him.

“What happened between you two, anyway? If you’re relying on _me_ to keep tabs on him, it must have been something bad.” For the first time, Lambo sounded a little concerned.

Tsuna couldn’t repress a sharp bark of laughter. “I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”

They hung up after a few more moments, and Tsuna went to the bathroom to dress for what promised to be a grueling afternoon.

***

Torino’s first words proved him unhappily right. “Ah, so you have not brought the rabid mongrel this time. I see you _are_ able to exercise good sense.”

Tsuna gritted his teeth. “I apologize for my aide’s behavior. What he did was in my defense, therefore the responsibility is mine alone.”

“You should learn to train your pets better. I could give you some tips if you like,” Torino said off-hand, as if what he was saying was perfectly acceptable. Then he leered. “Though, for a mutt, he was quite beautiful. Perhaps I could give him some hands-on _training_ myself!” Torino threw his head back, laughing raucously.

The filthy suggestion in his tone left no doubt as to what Torino meant by “training”. It had white-hot fury blooming in Tsuna’s chest, even as an icy tendril of fear skittered down his spine. What if Gokudera had met and been beholden to someone like this first? Would he have given himself over as completely as he had to Tsuna? 

The thought of his beautiful, fierce lover on his knees for Torino or someone of his ilk, docile and tame at their feet made Tsuna fight very hard not to gag. 

Tsuna pulled every scrap of composure he possessed around him and breathed. Once, twice, in, out. Then he leaned over the table and steepled his fingers under his chin. He asked, almost curiously, “Just so I’m positive I’m not misunderstanding--Italian _is_ my second language after all--what, exactly, do you mean by that?”

Torino sneered, either heedless of the tension or ignorant to it. Whichever it was, he was obviously very stupid, because he continued without missing a beat. “Even someone as young as you, Signor Vongola, must know that there are ways to break a person without leaving a mark. I would have him begging me to stop in a day, and begging me not to in three. In a week he would not hesitate to do anything I ask, even jump from a bridge or put his hand to a fire. Surely you can see the value of such perfect obedience?”

Tsuna swallowed around a lump in his throat. He was very sure that Gokudera _would_ do any of that for him. That Gokudera would follow any order he gave, no matter how painful or humiliating. Tsuna already had the perfect obedience Torino spoke of.

But because he was himself and _not_ Torino, he wanted desperately not to abuse the trust implied by that obedience. That he had the power to so easily hurt Gokudera with a thoughtless word or action was something he found humbling and often terrifying.

It was also--as he’d discovered only a very short time ago--in his deepest, darkest thoughts, something he found unbearably erotic. 

It wasn’t so much Gokudera’s desires that made him uneasy, but his own which seemed to complemented them. Just how slippery was this slope, if he he chose to walk it? Where was the line he must not cross, lest he turn into someone like Torino?

Tsuna closed the lid on the matter for the time being. He refused to consider his relationship in the presence of Torino. Now that Tsuna was attuned to it, his presence felt as greasy as his hair, contaminating everything in the area with his filth. 

Tsuna made his decision. Behind him and under the level of the table, he crossed his middle finger over his index finger. A deep breath behind him was the only sign Yamamoto had acknowledged the signal. A moment later he excused himself discreetly and Tsuna heard him speaking quietly on his mobile.

Tsuna’s plans had indeed gone to ashes, and it was, at least indirectly, due to Gokudera. He couldn’t bring himself to regret that, even though he knew what it meant he’d have to do.

As the silence dragged on, Torino began to fidget. He was obviously loathe to be the one to break first, but now that he had decided on an alternate course, Tsuna was content to never speak another word to this pest.

“Should we not resume our discussion of the alliance?” Torino finally spat impatiently. “That is why we’re here, yes?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Tsuna said cooly, “Since I no longer wish to make an alliance with your Family.”

“What?” Torino cried out, dismayed, and cementing Tsuna’s certainty that his protests the other day had been all bluster.

“I’ll have to thank Gokudera, actually,” Tsuna continued with a faint smile. “If not for his outburst I might have made a terrible mistake.”

In the confused silence that followed, Torino’s cell phone began to ring. 

“You might want to get that.” Tsuna let his smile widen.

Torino fumbled with his phone and Tsuna could hear the tinny shouts coming from the earpiece. He wasn’t at all ashamed of how much he enjoyed the way Torino’s eyes widened and his face went very pale.

The shouting stopped and Tsuna watched as the phone slid from Torino’s fingers and clattered to the floor.

“I did tell you that Vongola was in a position to stop you by force,” Tsuna said casually, mood so much improved that he was almost cheerful. “Now, I think we should discuss the terms of Torino’s surrender and dissolution.” He held his hand out, into which Yamamoto promptly placed a different document. “Don’t bother trying to command your thugs to shoot at us. They’ve been inside one of Chrome’s illusions for awhile now.”

Torino slid down in his chair, defeated.

***

“What made you change your mind?”

Tsuna tilted his head back, not sure how much he felt comfortable divulging to Chrome. He liked her, even trusted her to watch his and Vongola’s back... but she didn’t keep secrets from Mukuro, and that was a problem. Though their relationship had thawed considerably in the years since their disastrous first encounter, Tsuna still didn’t entirely trust him. He didn’t know if it was paranoia or just good sense that made him wary.

Tsuna rubbed his face with his hands, wondering where he should start. “Did you see the photographs of the scene after San Carlo?”

Chrome nodded her head. Tsuna nodded back. “Then you know how bad it was. I hate the thought that there are people in the world who can do that. But I’m not some god to smite those I don’t approve of. I’d rather reform them if I can. So I came up with this plan instead. Have Torino basically sign his organization over to me, and I could put my own people on the inside and heal it from within. After a time, I’d purge those incapable of changing and absorb what remained into Vongola.”

“I know what the plan _was_ , Boss. I want to know why you suddenly abandoned it.”

Tsuna hesitated. How could he explain to her what he’d felt, sitting there listening to Torino’s poison? How sick it had made him to know he’d already exposed people he treasured to that foulness? “I realized how selfish I was being,” he settled on at last. “I gave that awful man honor he didn’t deserve by pretending to respect him. I should never have done that. If I’d proceeded with the plan, I’d have had to let that filth touch my family, and in the end I couldn’t tolerate that. I never want the people I care about to come to harm because of my reluctance to use force. And I owe thirty-seven people better than an alliance that allows their murderer to save face, even for one moment.”

“As always, I can’t tell if your sentiment makes you foolish or wise.” 

Tsuna immediately knew he wasn’t with Chrome any longer. He didn’t bother to react, since the novelty of possession had worn off quite some time ago. 

“Whichever one it is,” Mukuro continued, stretching his arms out along the back of the seats and smirking, “it’s one of the reasons I like you so much, I think. Not knowing keeps me on my toes. In any case, I caught a bit of what was happening. You realize the whole Torino Family probably isn’t a carbon copy of him, I hope.” Mukuro said it with a tilt of his head, as if he was merely curious.

Tsuna shook his head slowly. “From the intel we gathered, the people he’s put in charge at least share his ideals and convention, if not his personality.” Tsuna couldn’t help a shiver of revulsion. “Their way of doing things is absolutely intolerable. My people know to leave the lower echelons out of it as much as possible, but I don’t want there to be enough left to attempt to rebuild when I’m done.”

“Why, that’s surprisingly bloodthirsty, Decimo-sama. I never would have expected it of you.” It could have been delight or contempt in Mukuro-Chrome’s dulcet tones, and Tsuna didn’t even try to guess. It was a waste of time.

He rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not. I _hate_ this part of it. I hate that there are lines I’ve crossed that I hoped I’d never have to.”

“Yet you have crossed them. When you were a kid you would have hated yourself for that.”

“When I was a kid I hadn’t seen thirty-seven innocents dead in the street over a territory dispute,” Tsuna said softly. “I didn’t know that people bought and sold other people as easily as any other merchandise. I didn’t know a lot of things then, but now that I do, I think that kid I used to be would hate me even more for not using all my power to stop it. I might lose sleep over destroying Torino, but I believe I’d have lost a lot more if I’d kept playing the game.”

Mukuro laughed softly. “I thought to come out and warn you about the slippery slope you’re walking, but I see you brought cleats like a good little boy.”

Tsuna jerked a bit, startled by the echo of his own thoughts from earlier, and countered without thinking. “It’s not so slippery if you hold on tight to the reasons you’re walking it.”

Mukuro stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. Tsuna refused to look away. “Foolish or wise,” he murmured thoughtfully, and faded out, leaving Chrome to blink away her disorientation. She cocked her head, listening.

“He says, ‘I forgot to congratulate you on finally catching a clue. Poor little Hayato has been pathetically obvious about what he wants for quite some time.’” She smirked, and it was all Chrome this time.

Tsuna thwacked his head on the window, then stayed there. The cold glass felt good on his red face. And it gave him time to consider his own words from a moment ago. They applied in more than one sense, and he was tired of running from his problems like some little kid. 

He wasn't alone on this particular slope and it didn't do himself or Gokudera any favors by pretending he was.

He straightened suddenly, causing Chrome to blink at him. “Call the airline and tell them to have the jet ready to go in an hour. Antonio, wait for me after you drop us off at the hotel. There’s been a change of plans.”

He thought he was finally ready to confront Gokudera at last. Or at least die trying.


End file.
